‘What about hobbies? Could she have met someone through anything she did?’
‘Beth didn’t have much spare time. She was always busy with homework, or with Chloe, or with us as a family. She was into nature, so she and I would often come to the marsh – Jacob too. That was it. Oh, apart from guitar lessons with Mr Harvey.’ A wave of despair crashed over me. ‘Aleksy is looking like a stronger and stronger contender, isn’t he? He’s only a kid himself, though; surely he couldn’t have done it?’
‘What about the guitar tutor?’
‘James Harvey? He’s a nice bloke. In his early twenties. Twenty-four, I think.’
‘Not that much of an age difference, then,’ observed Glenn. There was excitement in his voice.
‘Ten years! The police looked into him, anyway. He has a watertight alibi – he was with Alison Daughtrey-Drew on a date.’
‘Blimey, the Daughtrey-Drews. There’s a name I haven’t heard for a good few years.’
Everyone knew the family. The Daughtrey-Drews were the area’s equivalent of landed gentry.
‘So, that James Harvey and the Daughtrey-Drew girl were on a date?’
‘Think it was more of a one-off than a date, from what I hear.’
Glenn grunted in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Alison isn’t much like her parents – but not many twenty-year-olds are.’ I smiled, despite myself. ‘She’s a bit of a tearaway. Last year she got pulled over by the police for speeding, and I heard that her parents had a word with some pal in the police force. As a result, she got off. They’re always having to get her out of one scrape or another. But rumour has it she got chucked out of university a few months ago, and her parents are so furious that they’re refusing to give her any money until she’s got a job.’
Glenn gave a rich, deep chuckle. ‘Bet they’re embarrassed by that.’
‘Just a bit. I think sleeping around is the least of Alison’s troubles. Though I’ve always found her decent enough when I’ve spoken with her, even if she is a bit of a spoiled only child.’
‘And that means James Harvey has an alibi.’ Glenn crossed the name out on the page.
‘Everyone has an alibi,’ I said. ‘Everyone in the entire village, according to our Family Liaison Officer.’
He frowned, clearly wanting me to explain further, but there was nothing else to say. ‘Anyway, what about other men?’
‘Beth’s fourteen, Glenn. She doesn’t have much to do with men.’
The silence became uncomfortable as it stretched out. He scratched his fingers through his blond curls. Cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.
‘Okay, who found Beth? Was it the police, or someone else? Because that can be suspicious, can’t it? There have been murders where the person who discovers the body is the one who did the deed.’
‘It was Davy Young. He’s not capable of harming a fly. And besides, he was with his mum the night Beth was injured.’ The indomitable Jill Young would never lie to the police. Even the way she stood was trustworthy; it reminded me of that famous painting of Henry VIII, legs akimbo. She was solid, reliable, unmovable.
Still, Glenn was right – it was worth having a chat with Davy. Although I’d heard from my brother and Dad about the scene when you were found, it would be good to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
I always felt a bit sorry for Davy. He wasn’t necessarily the sharpest knife in the drawer, but all his life he had tried to play catch-up with his older brothers, who loved nothing better than telling embarrassing tales of him as a kid. He was dismissed by everyone as being a bit dim. It must have been particularly awful proving people right when his farm had failed and he’d ended up having to move back in with his mum again at the grand old age of thirty-nine. He was a lovely bloke, though, and I’d no doubt he’d be keen to help me get to the bottom of who had hurt you.
With that thought, I looked at my watch. Gasped. ‘I’ve got to get back; Jacob will be home in half an hour! We’re going straight to the hospital for the night. Umm, I don’t want him to know what I’m doing. You don’t mind keeping this secret, do you?’
‘’Course not.’
‘Are you around tomorrow, or are you job-hunting?’ I asked, hesitant but keen to get on, now we had made a start.
‘I can be around if you want me to be.’
He smiled, and although I felt guilty for taking up his time, I also felt better because I was doing something useful at last. Something so much better than sitting by your side, watching you, helpless. I would get you justice so that when you woke you would know you were safe. I’d protect you, Beth.
Despite knowing there was nothing wrong and everything right with what we were doing, I got Glenn to drop me off at the top of the lane and walked home. Already I knew I wouldn’t share any of this with Jacob. He had enough on his plate juggling work, our fears for your long-term health and money being tight now he was the only breadwinner. Best to keep quiet until I could tell him everything.
The secret was for the greater good, Beth. You understood that, didn’t you?
Thirty
Death was a constant fascination for me. Even as a kid, I thought it the most beautiful thing in the world. I used to enjoy setting traps and seeing what I’d caught. I liked to watch the delicate birds flapping helplessly. The panic in their tiny, beady eyes right up until the point of death. If they froze and accepted their fate it was always a disappointment.
Best were the animals. Watching them pit their strength against my trap, trying and failing, striving for freedom and always falling short. I was a god, with power over their lives.
Seeing them twisting and pulling at the wire, it biting into their skin as they became more and more desperate; it did something for me that nothing else could. I felt truly alive in those moments. Sometimes they even chewed their own leg off. Seeing that took my breath away, and I’d laugh at their audacity.
Whatever they did, they never got away. Where would the fun have been in that?
People are just the same, I’ve discovered. When they are backed into a corner, fighting for their lives, some will snap and snarl. Others panic and lose themselves to fear, bowels opening, mouths screaming. Adults hold little appeal for me, though, with their dull, grey lives.
No, I have more refined taste.
I steal the most protected and precious things on this planet. Children. They are the little treasures of our world, and I am the god who can pilfer them from under their parents’ noses. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again.
I am killing innocence. I am slaughtering purity. I am butchering potential.
There is no more powerful feeling than that.
Thirty-One
Jacob and I sat side by side. You lay on your hospital bed. I traced the pale blue veins of your eyelids. I listened to the machine breathing for you. I talked about a future with you, me and your dad that felt like a fairy tale. I went quietly mad with grief.